


Insomniacs

by Five_seas



Category: Power Rangers Jungle Fury
Genre: Awkward Romance, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-24 05:50:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20700980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Five_seas/pseuds/Five_seas
Summary: First came the nightmares, and now he was shifting and prowling the jungle. Jarrod doesn't know if any part of Dai Shi survived the final battle, but he is having a hard time letting go of the memories. On RJ's suggestion, he asks Camille for help.But even that is dangerous territory.Jarrod/Camille set after the end of the series. Decided to give it a warning for violence just in case. And a mature rating because... well, I like to keep my options open.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Power Rangers (Jungle Fury or any other). This is a fan work for fan purposes only.
> 
> All hail Netflix for picking this up tho.

In the depths of the night, he hunted.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Jarrod knew he must be dreaming. The jungle was too fuzzy, too… surreal. As if he viewed it through layers and layers of cobwebs. He was too warm, as well, even though the temperatures dropped as soon as the sun disappeared from the sky. His breath was coming out in short gasps, as he stalked through the underbush, looking for something… something…

He didn’t know what, exactly.

But it was an attractive prospect.

He was King of this mountain. No-one could stand in his way. 

He was also a cub… 

The thought sneaked into his mind like a tendril, then, with a snarl, he banished it. There was a new scent in the air. Spicy, warm, animal… prey.

His prey.

Jarrod moved more slowly now. Looking down, he caught a glimpse of his claws… nothing alarming, he expected to see it there…

Did he though? Did he, really?

The smell grew stronger. He pressed his face against a tree, inhaling deep. They - whomever they were - had been nearby. Resting, probably. Trying to catch their breath. Gathering their strength to escape.

But there was no escaping him.

Jarrod scraped his claws against the bark, then dashed forward again, moving more quickly. The scent grew stronger, more pointed. His prey had realized he was following. They were being driven by fear now, and it made their blood sing to him all the more loudly. He grinned, exposing all of his teeth. It would feel so good - so, so good - to sink them into their throat. He would fight them, and then… and then…

“Really, should you be out at this time?”

The voice was cool and languid - he only had time to register it - before something rushed him from the side. Something completely different than the thing he was chasing. Something with cold blood and a slow pulse.

Jarrod skittered back, let out a roar, and charged. 

Whomever his assailant was, they’d made a big mistake.

He slashed at them with his claws, but instead of tearing at vulnerable flesh, they met with steel and iron. Every attack he made, they matched him step for step - holding their ground, even pushing him back. He snarled, throwing all of his might at them…

Then, as fast as they had appeared, they were gone - leaving nothing but a whiff of something ionic and odd in the air. Jarrod stood in the shattered silence… unsure of what had just happened… 

And then a hard jab in the back of his neck sent him sprawling in the bush.

*

He woke, his head aching and his vision blurry.

He was in his room - that much he could tell without opening his eyes. The familiar smells of the temple, and the old noises, were indication enough. He was safe… whole… in his own bed.

And he’d had another nightmare.

Jarrod sighed. “Damn it all,” he muttered, and raised his hand to rub his eyes.

Pain shot immediately through him - from his elbow all the way into his fingers. 

“Easy,” someone said, and the next thing he knew, his head was being raised, a cup being proffered. “Drink. This ought to help with the hangover.”

“It’s not hangover. I don’t drink.” His own voice felt too loud for his ears. Nonetheless, he drank.

He would drink anything she offered him, without hesitation.

Camille’s hand tightened around his shoulder, when he tried to take the cup from her again. “Stop that. You’ll only make it worse.”

“Can’t imagine it being any worse than that,” he said, and tried opening his eyes again. The room was unfocused, but she wasn’t. He could see her clear as day.

Satisfied that he’d drank enough - some nasty concoction of herbs and water, as far as he could tell - Camille set him back down in bed, and adjusted his covers. He frowned at the sunlight dancing across his floors.

“What time?” he asked.

“It’s before the morning bells. You should try to get a bit more sleep.”

“I feel like I’ve been sleeping for ages,” he said, frowning down. His hands - normal hands, human hands, no claws in sight - lay on top of the duvet, but there was something odd about his fingers. Wincing at the pain, he brought them closer to study the damage. “Dirt… leaves… and I smell blood, too,” Jarrod said, feeling strangely detached. As if it wasn’t his own body he was talking about.

“You’ll be getting some bruises soon, I reckon,” Camille added. “You were quite worked up last night.”

He felt positively sick, as the realization hit. “That… that wasn’t just a nightmare, was it? Last night…”

She pursed her lips. For a second, she looked like she wouldn’t tell him.

“You morphed last night and ran into the jungle,” she said. “Lost control of the Lion spirit, if I had to guess.”

“Lost control… Camille, the cubs!” He tried to get up, but another wave of nausea hit him, offsetting the panic. Her arms were around him again in a flash.

“They’re. All. Fine!” she said through gritted teeth. Once he was lying down - this time on his side, she found a wet rag and wiped his face. “You didn’t hurt anybody. As far as I could tell, you just wanted to run under the full moon or something.” 

Then where had the blood come from? He stared at his hands, each prospect more terrifying than the next. He’d been hunting. He’d followed a scent, something must have caught his attention… and then someone had stopped him. 

Jarrod looked up at Camille, noticing for the first time what she was wearing.

“You went after me,” he said, quietly. Her uniform was stained and covered in sweat patches, and he could smell the outdoors on her as well as on him. Her hands were wringing a towel out, but even with all the moving around, he could see scratches on them as well. “I made you bleed,” he added.

“As I did you,” Camille replied, putting the towel back over his head and draping it so that one end covered his eyes. Her fingers ran through his hair - tenderly, with care. Completely by accident, he told himself. “Sleep,” she ordered. “We both have work later today, and I am not covering your shift again.”

He wanted to tell her that shifts were the least of his problems now. That these nightmares had been going on for a lot longer than last night, and that, if he was losing control of the lion, he wasn’t going to get any better soon.

But there must have been something in the water because the world started fading away again. He felt her fingers in his hair again, heard her whisper reassurances somewhere in the distance… and then he dropped off, mercifully, into a dreamless sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Power Rangers, Jungle fury or otherwise. This is a fan work, for fun only.

RJ did not believe in comfort zones and as such, he tried to push his students out of them as early as humanely possible. This was, partially, how Casey had gotten so good so quickly – after all, what sort of team would follow a leader who did not want to take charge? 

Yes, his methods did have their shortcomings, but you couldn’t accuse him of not getting results.

Even he had to admit, though, that Camille and Jarrod posed a rather unique challenge. A challenge, like: Which one of those socially awkward people should I put in the front of the house, and which one should I trust with a pizza oven?

In the end, Camille ended up taking the serving job, for no other reason that the fact that Jarrod knew what human beings found palatable. 

“Ah, my little worker bees have arrived,” he said, as the unique challenge made its way into the parlour. Camille looked at him as if being in a good mood was a crime punishable by death. Jarrod looked like… well, Jarrod. “Goodness gracious, you two, try to smile for a change. It’s a beautiful day, and happy customers tend to tip well.”

“RJ—” Jarrod started, but before he could finish, he had to dodge a cap and an apron being thrown at him.

“Come on, now, you can’t wait. Lily is off on a training mission, which means I need you to work double time in the kitchen.”

“I really need to talk to you.”

“Is the world on fire? Are monsters swarming the streets? Giant mantis tearing through the city?”

“…No.”

“Then you can talk to me after the 12:32 lunch hour rush.”

Jarrod looked like he might argue, but then Camille shook her head and put on her own uniform, before taking a place at the greeting desk. Thus outnumbered, her companion had no choice but to retreat. RJ wondered if he’d taken some sort of tutorial, to look this mopey - surely that could not be his resting expression.

Well, no matter. There was nothing quite like hard, boring work to get the mind onto more important matters. Nobody could brood when covered in flour dough and marinara sauce.

There was chatter coming from the street, and RJ fixed a wide smile on his face. “Incoming!”

*

Of course, he knew what had happened.

Camille had called him as soon as she’d wrestled Jarrod indoors, and Casey had been able to confirm that there were no casualties. Whatever had set the lion off - and RJ had a few working theories - it had not been violent.

The good news seemed lost on the man himself, though. Even after working the dinner shift, he was full of restless energy - energy he was now expending by wearing a hole into RJ’s floor.

“Okay,” the Wolf Master said, trying not to laugh too much at the sight. “So to recap: you were having a nightmare. Your spirit took over, you morphed, and went out on a run. You made an unholy mess of your pajamas, and Camille broke a little sweat while dragging you back to bed.”

“You make it sound like I pulled a prank.” Jarrod stopped and gave the older man a look that was verging on panic. “I didn’t just morph. I thought I was the lion. I was hunting. What if the next time, we’re not so lucky? What if I hurt one of the cubs, or worse - get into town?”

“What ifs are useless and you will do well to purge them from your mind.” He was only half kidding. “You didn’t hurt anybody this time. And now that we know this is happening, we can plan and make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

Jarrod looked miserable.

“Has it happened before?”

“I just had the nightmares,” he admitted. “I… as far as I’m aware, this is the first time I went out.”

RJ nodded. “Then, we learned what we need to know at the time we needed to know it. We’re good.”

This had no positive effect whatsoever.

“Jarrod, I know this is scary,” he went on. “I was there, too. I’m not going to tell you it’s all sunshine and roses to lose control of your spirit, but you’ve already got an advantage.”

“And what is that?”

RJ smiled. “You have friends looking out for you. Trust me - when I was having issues with my spirit, I was terrified, but the fact that I had to hide it from Casey and the others made it a million times worse.” When Fran had brought him back, it had ostensibly been through the reminder of his own humanity. Secretly, though RJ thought it was the sheer relief of being accepted and loved that had given him that extra edge. He’d never felt validated in such a way before. Never.

Jarrod, he suspected, and the same issues.

The latter had finally taken a seat, twisting and untwisting his fingers. The bruises were starting to show on his forearms - evidence that Camille had given him as good as she’d gotten the previous night.

“What’s eating you?” RJ asked. “Besides the obvious.”

“What do you mean?” Jarrod muttered, without looking up.

“I mean spirits don’t usually take over willy-nilly. Something’s gotten under your skin.”

The younger man shrank further into his seat.

RJ was baffled. Working with teenagers, it wasn’t uncommon to witness a lot of awkwardness and misplaced shame. He’d counseled enough cubs through puberty to know when someone was making a mole out of a molehill.

Jarrod had the look of someone in real trouble.

“I keep hearing him in my dreams,” he said. “Dai Shi.”

“And what does he say?” RJ asked, careful to keep his tone neutral.

“Everything. Anything.” He shook his head. “How I am evil to the core. How I would never be rid of him. How my crimes would follow me to the day I die. Sometimes, Jellica and Carnisoar are there, too. They tell me my memories from childhood are false. That I was always a bully, a cheat, and selfish. That there is nothing worthy about me.”

A pause. A sigh.

“But you know this isn’t true, right? Dom remembers you. I remember you, and so do many of the students from Pai Zhua. Master Mao can confirm - you had a code and you acted on it.” Master Mao had also judged him beyond redemption once, but RJ chose not to bring that up. 

“If I had a code, Dai Shi wouldn’t have possessed me. I would have never attacked my Master, or questioned his choice of Guardians.”

RJ pursed his lips.

“Sometimes…” Jarrod rubbed his knuckles, trying to chase some phantom pain away “…sometimes, I wonder how many of my memories and feelings are truly my own. I wonder if a part of Dai Shi hadn’t survived within me.”

“That’s not possible.”

“But what if it is?”

Then they were in deep shit. But somehow, the Wolf Master did not think that was the case. “Jarrod,” he said. “Being possessed for months on end is no walk in the park. I cannot imagine what it must have been like for you.”

“It was my fault. I let him out.”

“Not. The. Point.” He stood in front of him, so that the younger man had no choice but to meet his eyes. “What I’m trying to say is that if this happened to me, I’d be having nightmares too.”

Still no reaction. If only moping were a superpower.

“You say we’re good, but I didn’t just go for a run yesterday,” Jarrod said. “I hurt Camille. In my state, I could have killed her.”

“That was a risk, yes,” RJ admitted. “But she was also one of the most experienced fighters in Pai Zhua. She went after you knowing what could happen, and she brought you back, safe and sound.”

Plus, if there was one person Jarrod could be counted on to protect, even in a rampage, was Camille.

The thought gave RJ pause… and then flourished into a plan.

“Why don’t you ask her?”

“Ask who what?”

Pretend nonchalance. How quaint. RJ grinned. “Camille knew Dai Shi ten thousand years ago. She was also with you from the start. If there is anybody who can detect traces of the original Dark Master, it’s her.”

Jarrod looked like he wanted to do nothing of the sort. 

Well… that was his problem.

“Come on,” RJ said, nudging him. “You know she cares about your wellbeing. I’m sure she will be happy to talk to you.”

“After I attacked her?”

“Jarrod, you attack her every day of the week. It’s called sparring. She’s a big chameleon, and you’re doing her a disservice by treating her like some… service ornament.” He frowned. Usually, his student didn’t need more encouragement. “Unless… something else happened between you?”

*

Jarrod really, really didn’t want to talk about it.

But just because he blew RJ off, that didn’t mean the thoughts went away, too. As he stalked back to the academy - dreading, more than ever, the fall of night - he mulled over every possible scenario in his head.

He could lock himself in the dungeon and wait there until dawn. That would hold back his beast… if all he had was brute strength and fury. The doors would not, however, withstand Zocato or any other spirit technique, and there was a real danger that the noise would attract other people to him.

So, no locking up.

He could go into the jungle preemptively, but that didn’t guarantee anybody’s safety. There were people who went on the road at night - kids looking for kicks, quad-bike racers, extreme foragers. If anything, going out there made him harder to find, so if the Rangers tried to do damage control, they would have to rely on him to make his presence known.

Right, no running off into the jungle either.

He could tell the students to hide and ask Camille to keep an eye on him. That was probably the safest way to handle the situation, at least until he found a way to control the lion again… 

But that meant he had to rely on Camille.

Even if, deep down, he knew he could ask any of the rangers this - or RJ - the chameleon had been the first on his mind, and the only one he could picture watching over him.

That… was a problem.

Not because he didn’t like Camille, but because he liked her too much.

He hadn’t always been this afraid. When he was possessed, she was the only one who showed him consistency and loyalty. In a compound full of mindless foot soldiers and scheming overlords, Camille had been the candid one, speaking her mind fully and without hesitation. Even when Dai Shi doled out punishments, her advice had been true and wise. How could that not draw him in?

_You know she cares about your wellbeing, _ RJ had said, and it was true. Camille did care - although he never could tell if it was Jarrod or Dai Shi she wanted. Oh, she'd made no effort to hide how attracted she was to his body, but Dai Shi was the one she had history with in the first place. 

_ What if it was more than just history? _

Back when he was recovering from the battle with the Dark Master, Jarrod had entertained some pretty wild thoughts. He was still happy he had won… that he was alive. That he had a chance to start over. He imagined that he and Camille could pick things up effortlessly as soon as they were both healed, now that the violence and fear was gone.

Reality… asserted itself rather rudely.

Because life outside of the fishbowl of Dai Shi’s compound was a lot more difficult than he remembered. He had a purpose, sure, but he had a lot more responsibilities. School, jobs, building trust with the students he had been picking on in the past - it all took energy and effort, and learning things over again was a humiliating experience on the best of days. Any confidence that he’d had before the possession the day a 10 year-old cub corrected his techniques, and it showed no signs of returning.

Camille, too, had her challenges. She was master of languages and could do calculus in her sleep, but she knew nothing of the outside world. Things Jarrod understood well - money, public transport, photo IDs - were completely foreign to her. She learned fast, because she was Camille - but he couldn’t help wondering if she ever regretted giving up her immortality.

Of course, he could just ask her.

Ask her out, ask her about her feelings… just ask. 

But he couldn't.

Because what if he did ask, and she revealed that it was Dai Shi that she cared about, still. Or worse - that he was too much like Dai Shi, and it reminded her of all the abuse she’d suffered on his behalf. 

“Did your talk not go well?” a voice floated in the wind, making him start. He turned in time to see Camille emerge from the foliage.

“How long were you standing there?” he asked, wondering if he’d spoken any of his thoughts out loud. It wouldn’t be the first time…

“How long do you think?”

Not very, judging from what his nose was telling him. Camille had a very distinctive scent - sharp and energizing, like herbs growing on the ocean shore. He could always tell when she’d been lying in wait somewhere, because the spot made him think of the surf at dusk.

“You were coming this way.” He frowned. “Are you training?”

“Not exactly.”

Frown deepening, he studied her. She was in her leathers, with various lengths of string hanging from her belt. 

Then he smelled the rope oil, and it clicked.

“Setting traps for me, Camille? And here I thought we were past that.”

She shrugged, making no attempt to deny it. “Can’t blame a girl for trying to get an extra edge.”

“No. I’m… I’m glad you’re doing this.” He swallowed. “I was going to ask the other students to keep to their rooms after the last bell. Just in case.”

“Already done,” she said. “I also spoke to the Rangers. Casey, Lily and Theo will keep an eye on the city, in case you slip past the snares.”

And you? He wanted to say the words, but they got stuck in his throat.

Coward. Coward, coward, coward.

“Of course,” Camille went on, as the two of them made their way back to the academy, “chances are all of this will be unnecessary.”

“Because you assume last night was an accident?” he asked.

“Because I won’t let you get as far as the snares.” She gave him a mischievous grin. 

Hearts don’t swell, Jarrod thought. So why did his feel like it had grown three sizes?

“Someone thinks very highly of herself,” he said, more for the fun of it than anything else.

“Sorry to break it to you, cub, but if you keep up with the technique from last night, I might have to send you back to the beginner’s class.”

Jarrod laughed at that.

He wasn’t laughing in the morning.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Power Rangers. This is a fan work, for fun only.

The dream that wasn’t a dream started out the same as always.

Voices whispered in his ear as fur grew on his body and his hands turned into claws. He was Jarrod and he was not. He was a beast, he was a King. He was a human, and he was weak. The world seemed to float in a red mist, and he wanted to rule.

Doors opened for him as if by magic, and he was in the jungle again, running through the cool evening air. 

His domain. His hunt.

“Not a fluke then?”

He snarled. 

Enemy. 

Prey.

Enemy.

He wasn’t sure. Really, he didn’t care. What he wanted was the fight. 

No. What he wanted was the hunt.

“Are you going to fight me then? Or will you stand there all night?” 

He was on the ocean shore, facing the surf.

He was in the jungle, defending his land. 

The enemy emerged from the dark. Snarling, he attacked.

*

Jarrod woke up, feeling like he had been hit by a truck.

“Water,” he coughed, and then immediately regretted it.

“One second.” Camille’s voice, somewhere from far away. He daren’t open his eyes. Really, this hurt too much to believe. It defied possibility. 

Her hands on his arm, turning him on his side. Cool air hit his back and he realized with a start that his shirt was completely gone. There was a rustle, then he felt something cool press against his lips. “Ice chips,” she said. “Less messy.”

Her breath tickled his cheek. Her skin was so close… so close…

“What happened?” he asked, before taking the ice. His lips grazed her palm as he spoke.

Camille didn’t answer immediately. The warmth from her body felt too good. “You got near the snares. I may have… kicked you a little too hard to get you in one of them.”

He’d have laughed, if his ribs didn’t hurt so much.

“Do you want any ointment?” she asked. “Or would you rather wait until RJ comes to check on you?”

“Please,” he said. It was Friday - by the time RJ got there, he’d have transformed again. Maybe started another fight.

Then again, if his body was torn up, maybe he wouldn’t attack. Maybe he’d just lay in bed, licking his wounds, while…

He shuddered.

“Sorry,” Camille said from behind him. “I’m trying to be gentle.”

It wasn’t the ointment he was responding to, though.

Jarrod squeezed his eyes tighter still, forcing himself to breathe. It was as if his skin had become hyper-sensitive overnight. That, or maybe Camille was doing something more than just tending to his bruises.

When was the last time someone had touched him? Sparring didn’t count - punching other people just came with the territory around here. The last time anybody had touched him in a caring way had been… it had been…

Long ago. Too long ago.

“Almost done,” Camille said. Her movements were quick and efficient - she wasn’t trying to be sensual, not with him this beaten up. It was only his body, starved for affection, that was making more of this than it was.

“How many times did you kick me, exactly?” he asked, trying to distract himself.

Camille chuckled. “More than once.” She withdrew her hands. “Try to stay on your side for a bit. It’ll help.”

He forced his eyes to open. It was still dark outside - he could just about make out her shadow, dancing in the light of the lamp. 

“Come where I can see you,” he said. “Please.”

“I really should let you rest,” Camille said.

“Please.” He barely recognized his own voice.

A sigh. "I can't say no to you, can I?"

The bed at the academy were simple cots, arranged close to the ground. In most rooms, there was no need for chairs - just seating cushions. Camille carried hers over, and arranged it so that she sat right within Jarrod’s eyeline.

He studied her form. No stiffness, no limping, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t hurt. There was a tension around her mouth as she settled down. 

She had kicked him more than once. He’d given her plenty of reason to.

“How long have you been kneeling down?” There were no other places to rest in the room. “This can’t be good for you.”

“I’ve sat still for longer. This is nothing. You should focus on your own… healing,” she said, reaching over to pull the duvet over his body. Her movement was hasty, as if she just realized something. Jarrod glanced down - as he’d suspected, his shirt was missing. His trousers were still in place, but from the looks of it, he’d taken a trip through a mud pit at some point last night.

“You should at least bring a chair,” he said.

Camille gave him a tired smile. “Tell you what - why don’t you do that later? Maybe fetch me a few books, too - if we’re making this a nightly ritual.”

Of all the nightly rituals they could have, why did it have to be this one of all things? 

Jarrod sighed, closing his eyes, as the pain ebbed and flowed. These fights would not be sustainable. Not for him, not for her. Not for anybody. He had to do something. He had to…

“No,” he breathed, at last.

“No?” There was a rustle, her voice coming closer. “Jarrod?”

“I won’t… bring you books…” he said, as unconsciousness started to pull him under again. “I’ve got a… better idea.”

*

Another day.

Another night.

Another chase, another fight.

Camille stumbled through the academy, carrying Jarrod and muttering curses under her breath. If she had one iota of talent, she would have come up with a better poem… maybe a sistina, even. As it stood, she had to settle for childish rhymes and even more childish insults.

“Stupid idiot… taking on more than should… doofus…” 

She really, really, needed to let others do a bit of the heavy lifting for once. 

Casey had even offered to take on the close parameter watch, after she winced through her shift in Jungle Karma. And what did she do? She smiled, and told him not to worry his pretty head about any of this.

Moron.

As if the Black Lion spirit was some pest she could handle.

Jarrod groaned, but she didn’t stop to look him over. Served him right for throwing her in the stream. She wasn’t Jellica’s best student, but she had learned a thing or two. 

Then she pushed the door to his room opened, and she froze, realizing what Jarrod’s better solution was.

All bed chambers in Pai Zhau were meant to be shared, even if there weren’t enough students to fill them. Jarrod’s quarters were not an exception - but usually, his roommate’s cot was put away, stored for when there was another student who could take Dom’s place.

Tonight, both cots were out. And while Jarrod’s had the bare necessities, the spare one was covered in blankets and pillows, as if he was making an inventory of the linen closets and gave up halfway through. 

Camille shook her head and carried him the last few steps to his bed, then picked up the phone to call the rest of the Rangers. The Lion was spent for tonight.

Just as she was dialling, Jarrod’s eyes snapped open. She drew her sai… but then he focused on her, and smiled.

“Don’t…” he said, coughed, tried again “Don’t… kneel.”

And then he was asleep again.

Camille shook her head.

“Foolish man,” she whispered, but she couldn’t keep the fondness out of her voice. She updated RJ, then went to grab her First Aid bag. Tonight had been a tough one.

*

It took a few more nights like this - with escalating violence and injury - before Jarrod gave up. 

“I need to ask you a favor.” 

From her position above him, Camille frowned. “Dom and Fran will be back next week. There should be enough numbers for us to take turns guarding you.”

“Not that.” Even if it would make him feel better. Having only the physical contact from her tending to his wounds was… not helping. 

“Can this wait until after I adjust your nose?” she asked, moving to stand between his legs. She’d managed to land a pretty vicious punch on him tonight… but only after he’d bloodied her lip. He focused on that lip now, the swelling and the cut, and reminded himself that whatever embarrassment he was about to endure was nothing compared to what she had taken.

“I need your help.”

“We’re already doing all we can.”

“No. Camille… I need you to tell me about Dai Shi.”

Snap.

“Gods!” He shut his eyes, and took a deep breath. “Thank you. That… was very quick, actually.”

“I aim to please.” But she didn’t step away. He looked at her through blurry eyes, and saw her hesitate. “Why do you ask? About Dai Shi, I mean.”

Jarrod swallowed. “I hear him in my nightmares. I… I’m scared that some part of him lives on in me.”

Camille raised her hands. For a moment, she looked like she was about to come closer… then she took a clean step back. “This is what you talked about with RJ?” She busied herself with her medicine bag, arranging and rearranging the bottles. 

“Yes. He… he said the animal spirits tend to take over when the host is poorly. And he recommended I talk to you.” He paused. “But not if it hurts you more.”

“No.” She looked at him. “No… that’s not it. I just… I thought you wouldn’t want to recall that time.”

He recalled plenty already. And there were some memories he didn’t want to forget. But for the sake of getting the conversation over quicker, he said, “That’s what I prefer, but I can’t trust my own memories anymore. I cannot tell what was me and what was him.”

She shook her head. He was bracing for the “no”, when…

“I’m going to need a few hours. Possibly a map or two.”

“I… I’m sure there will be plenty. In the library.”

“True. True.” She kept fiddling with the medicine bag, but even he knew it was perfect. “I shall… come and get you. When I’m ready.”

“Of course. Take all the time you need.”

Camille smiled. “I don’t think it’ll be that long,” she says. “I just need to make sure the locations are… correct.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Power Rangers. This is a fan work, just for fun.
> 
> Please note: The chapter contains themes of emotional abuse that may be distressing for some readers.

The wind picked up as the two of them ran across the rooftops - Camille leading the way, Jarrod following close behind. The sun had reached its highest point, making it unbelievably warm. Yet, all she could focus on was their destination…

…and what she was going to say. 

Ten thousand years had passed, and yet still, the place had the same effect on her. A mixture of dread and hope, soaring joy and crushing despair. Part of her screamed to turn away, to never go back. 

Part of her couldn’t get there was enough.

To think. After all this time…

She had a moment to compose herself after her feet touched the roof, before Jarrod was next to her. Did he feel anything? But his expression was no different than usual - curious, a little bit hopeful, a little bit weary.

It was about to get a lot more weary.

“Are you lost?” he asked, looking around. “I thought we would go into the jungle. You…”

“What do you see?” she interrupted, without letting up on her examination.

“What _ I _ see?” Jarrod frowned, then turned slowly on his heel. “A roof. Office buildings. A strip mall. Urban landscapes.”

“The superficial view, yes,” Camille said. “But what of your spirit?”

Jarrod turned to look at her. Realizing she was serious, he started to scrutinize the landscape again. He frowned and frowned… even went as far as morphing into the Black Lion to study the buildings more closely. They stood like that for ages, before he morphed back, shaking his head.

“I don’t see anything,” he said. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

Camille smiled… then breathed out a small sigh of relief.

“What’s this got to do with the maps?” he asked.

“Nothing, perhaps.” Camille walked up to the end of the roof and perched herself on the ledge. “Once upon a time, all of this belonged to the jungle. Humans and beasts avoided it - even back then, they thought it was cursed. It is where some of the most gruesome battles in the Beast Wars were fought. It is also where Dai Shi first came into power.”

Jarrod started. Yet, when he came to sit on the ground near her feet, there was no new recognition in his expression. She couldn’t blame him. The area was as impersonal as it could possibly be. The most exciting thing was a billboard advertising an energy drink across the road from them.

“Did you meet him here?” he asked. “Or was it at another battlefield?”

“Here,” Camille said. “After my general sent me to destroy him.”

She felt a chill, despite the sunny day. Old pain danced over her skin. This was one memory she was not looking forward to reliving.

“Back then, I was a lieutenant in a Beast General’s army,” she said. “I had some successes… I had even earned command of a small legion of soldiers. It was at the time when I was given the mission to take on a - then unknown - Dark Master. And it was also the reason Dai Shi responded to my challenge.”

“You fought him,” Jarrod said.

“And I lost.” The less she dwelled on that humiliating defeat, the better. Still… she could still see herself, falling in front of her army. Feeling every ounce of respect they had for her drain as if it were a physical thing. Lookeding up to find Dai Shi standing over her, and praying he’d end her quickly. 

Instead, he’d stood her up and made her _ his _ right hand. He knew how to add insult to injury.

“He did not destroy you,” Jarrod said. She wasn’t clear whether he meant her physical body or her spirit… but he was wrong on both counts.

“I was convenient,” Camille said. “Remember - with one word, I could command an army. If he killed me, Dai Shi would have had to go and capture each one of my soldiers - possibly having to fight stronger generals for control. Having me under his thumb meant he saved himself a whole load of trouble.”

“It sounds like a pretty bad deal for you.”

“It was,” she agreed. “But I did not see it as such at the time.” 

This was the part she was dreading the most. _ Just get it over with, just get it done. _

“Dai Shi,” Camille said, slowly, “was a great warrior, that much is true. But great warriors are a dime a dozen. What he was exceptional at was finding a weak spot. I had… a lot of weak spots, and he exploited each and every one of them.”

Jarrod stared up at her, which was good. The more he focused on what she was saying, the less he could think about his own situation. 

That was good. That was important.

She pushed past her own disgust of the subject, and carried on, “Ten thousand years is a long time. You only met me recently. When I first faced Dai Shi… I was ambitious. I was angry. I was mendacious and cruel and I was willing to stop at nothing to get what I wanted. He offered me a quick path to victory - I could attach myself to him, flatter him, give him my loyalty and devotion, and eventually, he would reward me with power.” And his heart. Maybe. Like every human before or after, Camille had been seduced to the idea of being the chosen one.

“That sounds like a very common goal,” Jarrod said, oblivious to her train of thought.

“Perhaps. But you know what they say about conmen - they can’t fool you if you are not willing to fool yourself. For years, I followed Dai Shi. He abused me, belittled me, crushed my spirit… and the more he did, the harder I worked to convince myself it would be worth it. I justified the carnage I wrought, because I told myself that it was too late to have a change of heart.”

“You did though. You gave up your powers, and your immortality. You preferred to do that than to let him destroy humanity.”

Camille smiled, but there was no mirth in her heart. “Sure. But before I did that, I spent ten thousand years, bound to the compound walls. I preferred to inter myself - not even attempting to break the curse - than admit that I might have been wrong.”

Jarrod shook his head, but didn’t try to argue further. She wasn’t sure she could take him being nice to her anymore.

“You wanted to know what Dai Shi was like,” she said. “I can only tell you what he was like to me: cruel, unyielding, and strict. He demanded flattery and deference, even when he was on the wrong path; yet he would not tolerate anything less from me than my best. He praised me only when it suited him, but gave me no leeway; and when I failed, his punishments were the stuff of nightmares. As you might imagine, I was a little apprehensive when he called me forth, after he possessed your body.”

“You failed him a lot,” he said, slowly. “Those first few weeks. He kept threatening to have you killed.”

“Yet he never put a hand on me,” Camille said. “I wonder why that was?”

Jarrod bowed his head. “Not because of me. I could barely exert my will then. I was more of a shadow than anything else.”

“I don’t know what he did to you. Or what he said.” She had to be honest about that, at least. “All I can say is that the old Dai Shi would not have hesitated to make an example of me. And, not to be disparaging, but I don’t think he learned any new tricks from being locked in the Forbidden Room.”

“He said I had no courage or nobility. That’s why he chose me.” 

Camille sighed. “Like I said. Hell of an eye for weak spots.”

*

They sat in silence for a long time, staring out into the distance. The day was getting progressively warmer, but somewhere above the mountains, storm clouds were gathering. Soon, it would be as dark as night, and if they didn’t get a move on, they would be soaked to the bone.

Some things never changed, Camille thought. Others just accelerated until you couldn’t keep up. 

She remembered what it had felt like, to have Jarrod rescue her from the ambush of the other Phantom Beasts. She’d wondered about the changes in Dai Shi, but had chalked it up to age, to the long imprisonment. She’d assumed captivity had changed him, as it had changed her. Instead, it had been Jarrod all along.

Jarrod, who now doubted his own memories and was fighting the trauma of his own possession every night.

Lily said she was a good person, but Lily didn’t know half of it.

“We should probably head back,” she said.

“We can stay a moment more,” Jarrod said. He wasn’t looking at the sky anymore, though. His attention was on her. “I appreciate you telling me this. It… It couldn’t have been easy.”

She shrugged. “It’s ancient history now. Thanks to your sway over Dai Shi, I finally got a taste of power, and I realized I hated it. It’s nice to have that certainty, at least.”

“Camille… I don’t think Dai Shi just spared you because you were convenient.”

“Oh, you have access to his memories now?” she asked, trying to lighten the mood.

Jarrod was having none of that. “You say you had a legion under your command. You must have had underlings then. Foot soldiers he could have controlled much more easily. Why bother with the mind games?”

“Perhaps,” Camille said, “he was a sick bastard as well as a conman. Just because I didn’t enjoy the power trip doesn’t mean others don’t get intoxicated by it.”

“True. Or maybe he had other things in mind.”

“Such as?”

He stood up, dusting himself off. “I remember you with the soldiers, Camille. They failed a lot too, but instead of hurting them, you took responsibility for their actions. I never saw you pass that blame. The Overlords and Best Generals kept looking for scapegoats - you just submitted to punishment.”

Camille pursed her lips. “Perhaps I’m a sucker for pain, too.”

“That’s a lot of what ifs.”

She folder her hands in her lap. This was getting dangerous now. Jarrod’s good opinion warmed her like the sunshine after a long and terrible winter. It felt so good, but she knew it could not last. 

Not when she had been complicit in his torment.

Right now, she was useful. She kept the Black Lion from rampaging on the innocents, and she was offering him important clues about who Dai Shi was, and was not. But as soon as this crisis was over, he would remember what had really happened. How she had stood, oblivious to the fact that he was still there, until he had made his presence explicitly clear. 

He would remember. And then, he would hate her.

She couldn’t let herself be attached to this.

“You think my soldiers respected me?” she asked. “Need I remind you, they had no free will of their own?”

“They knew fear. And they could think well enough for themselves, once you gave them even a little bit of power. Why would they also not feel respect? Or loyalty?”

“I had to work hard for every bit of power I got,” Camille said. “Respect was hard to earn and easy to lose.”

“Yet, you earned theirs. And mine.”

“Jarrod…”

“You never gave him bad advice. Even when you had every reason to. Why is it so strange that your soldiers would follow you because you were a good leader, or that he would have wanted you in his army for that same reason?”

Camille stood. Even in her full height, she was no match for him. Not in any sort of presence. But she looked at him dead in the eye, and something of her feelings must have shown, because Jarrod took a step back.

“You seem determined to convince me of my own goodness,” she said, slowly. “Yet, you secretly believe that Dai Shi chose you because you are cowardly and weak. Am I summing this up nicely?”

He paused. Then, after a while, he said in a defeated tone, “It would appear so.”

She shook her head. Then she offered him her arm. “Come. Let’s head back. Our shift starts in an hour, and I don’t fancy getting soaked.”

As they got ready to make their way back, Jarrod asked, hesitating, “That last part… were you…?”

Camille gave him a sad smile. “I told you - he really, _ really _ had an eye for weak spots.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Power Rangers. This is a fan work, just for fun.
> 
> In other chapter warnings, I shall quote Devilboner from the Nostalgia Critic Cinderella review:
> 
> "PONIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

The days drew on. The nightmares continued.

Yet, the hunt seemed to change after Camille took him to that roof. Jarrod couldn’t pinpoint it, until he woke up without any new bruises or cuts or scratches. 

He was still changing. But he wasn’t fighting Camille at night anymore. Instead, he was chasing her.

That wasn’t in itself any less dangerous. Especially once she realized he’d began to map out her traps, and they ventured further into the jungle. This was making it more interesting, but also raised the likelihood of encountering other humans. Camille found ways to keep his attention - running through difficult terrain, masking her scent, even wandering into the path of other predators. But that was increased the danger for her, and he was beginning to wonder whether leading the Lion on such a merry chase was ever a good idea.

Because he would catch her one day. And when he did, he would…

…he would…

…pass out from exhaustion, probably. 

RJ kept telling him that it would pass, that with enough time and meditation even those jungle strolls would end. But Jarrod was beginning doubt him. The older man had never lost control over his spirit for more than a day or two - how would he know what was to be expected and what was not?

And, a part of him - not an insignificant part, either - was enjoying this routine with Camille, no matter how punishing it was on their bodies. He was quickly growing used to having her intrude on his dreams, cutting through the voices of the overlords and calling him to hunt. To trying to outwit her in unfamiliar territory. To waking up with her on the cot opposite his, tired and beautiful and ever so alive. He could live with this forever, if she was there.

He didn’t appreciate how much he wanted that, though, until the day he woke up, and found the other bed empty.

“Camille?” he asked, pushing himself up. He winced - his ribs still hadn’t healed completely - but he swung his legs over nonetheless. He was in his night gear, and his trousers were filthy from mud and water, but he couldn’t smell any blood on himself. That was… good, right? Yes. It was.

And yet.

“Camille.” He turned around, casting his senses out, on the off chance she was blended into her surroundings. He found nothing but a handful of spiders.

Somehow that scared him even more. 

What if he had chased her into a predator’s den that she couldn’t handle? What if she’d fallen into a gorge? What if she was lying somewhere, bleeding slowly to death? What if he’d done something unforgivable and she didn’t want to see him again?

Panic made him tear through the corridors - out of the men’s dormitories, all the way to the other side of the building where the women’s stood. Camille was meant to share a room with Lily, but Lily spent no time in the academy anymore. If she was hurt, nobody would look out for her. Nobody…

The door was ajar. Jarrod skidded to a stop. Her scent was stronger here - she’d been in quite recently - but he also smelled Earth and blood and death.

“Camille—” he whispered, walking in.

Nothing. The room was empty. He looked around for the thing that had alarmed him, and saw a pile of dirty clothes sitting in the corner.

“Jarrod?”

He whirled around, nearly tripping on both his legs.

Camille stood - whole, and as far as he could tell, healthy - in the door. Her hair was damp and she was wearing a long bath robe.

His mouth went dry… or drier, if he had to be honest.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. 

“I…” _ Think, think, think, you had a good reason to be here. _“You weren’t there when I woke up.”

_ Nicely done, now try saying something even more conceited. Where’s my towel, perhaps? _

Camille cocked her head to the side - and he heard it too. The noises of the other students waking up. 

She stepped inside the room and pulled the door shut, before someone walked by. “You didn’t add any new injuries to your collection last night,” she explained, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought she was nervous. “I waited until sixth bell, but since you weren’t in any pain, I thought I’d start my day early.”

Of course she did. Of course.

Jarrod looked down at himself, feeling self-conscious. He stank, of course. And he was standing in her chambers - something he’d never done, even when they were living in Dai Shi’s compound. Every other area had been available to him. Camille’s quarters, he avoided like the plague. It felt strangely intimate - and he felt like he was painfully out of place.

“I’m sorry,” he said, finally. “I didn’t think.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for.” She looked like she was about to come to him, but then stopped herself. “Perhaps next time I’ll leave a note?”

“I… I won’t do this again. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t badly hurt.” He glanced at the clothes again, frowning.

“Ah,” she said. “I ran through an animal graveyard last night. I thought it’ll throw you off my scent a bit, but you picked up on me almost immediately.”

“I always will,” he said, without thinking. Then, “I better leave you. Today is your day off, as well.”

Camille chuckled. “You know I’ll just do the same things as I always do. At least I got some excitement this morning.” She walked across to the changing screen in the corner of the room, effectively dismissing him. He could leave. Thought about leaving.

His feet stayed planted.

Later, he told himself he wasn’t sure if there were any other students in the corridor. The reality was that he just wanted to look around.

His room in the academy was just that - a room, spartan and fit-for-purpose. Camille, however, had decorated.

The walls were hung with beautiful scrolls, depicting landscapes from the jungle. Around her side of the wall were chests of drawers - ones he’d recognized from the old junk store - fixed up and lacquered over. The same treatment had been given to the screen behind which she was changing now - he knew those were not standard issue, but that there were plenty lying around, leftovers from a different time that they could neither burn nor had the time to restore. A pile of crossword puzzles sat on the floor, waiting to be solved. Her bed - Jarrod took very careful consideration of that - was draped in colorful fabrics, in greens and golds and reds - as if this wasn’t some lowly student living here, but a princess in exile.

She’d made this her space.

Of course she would. Without Dai Shi, she had no goals anymore. She was free to figure things out for herself, to settle down. To explore interests that, apparently, included hours of painstaking painting and whittling, and puzzles.

But she never invited him along.

If it hadn’t been for his panic this morning, he probably would have never seen this.

Jarrod swallowed. Before their conversation at the start of the week, he would have been inclined to believe this was because Camille didn’t want to spend time with him. Now, he kept thinking of how vehemently she denied being anything but rotten to the core. How much she believed the poison that Dai Shi had poured into her ears.

She had been under his sway as much as he had, and for a lot longer.

Could he really expect her to just… carry on with her life, as if some switch had been flipped, when he himself was still having nightmares about it.

“Camille?” he called out.

She peeked over the edge of the screen. One of her shoulders was bare. “Yes?” she asked, completely oblivious.

“I… if you really don’t have any plans for today, I’d like to show you something.”

“Something? That’s oddly specific.”

Jarrod shook himself, scrambling for words. “I mean, there is a place that I found that I think you might like. But it’s a bit of a trek.”

“Well…” she considered “…so long as we’re back before nightfall, I have no issue with that. In all honesty, I just wanted to read.”

“There’s plenty of reading spots where we’re going. And I can get us there and back with time to spare.”

“Just remember, you ran a fair few miles in the last week.” As had she. “Maybe you shouldn’t destroy your body just yet with another sprint.”

“I was thinking of a different mode of transport,” he said. “You’re not afraid of horses, are you?”

*

So that is where all of his free time went, Camille thought, as she watched Jarrod speak to the people running the stables at Pai Zhua.

Somehow, this surprised her not one bit. He’d mentioned before that his neighbors had let him ride their horses as a child. It made sense that he would turn to the animals again in this time. The only issue was that there tended to be more riders than horses at any one time - which was why she hung back, letting him do the talking, while she studied the decorative wood work on the supporting beams.

It was lovely. But time hadn’t been kind to it, and a lot of the detail had been worn away. She could probably make it better, if she found the right tools. Maybe a non-toxic lacquer that the horses wouldn’t be drawn to.

“We’re all set,” Jarrod announced. She turned and looked up. And up. And up.

“That’s a… rather tall stallion,” she said, unsure.

“Indeed. We got lucky.” Jarrod patted the animal, which turned and gave Camille the stink eye. “Patches here is always busy with more important things. Today, though, he’s happy to join us.”

Patches seemed like too cutesy of a name for something that had such an aura of evil, Camille thought. “I haven’t been on a horse in centuries. Wouldn’t it make more sense for me to get on a pony or something?”

“You could,” he said. “But you won’t like it. The ponies here are stubborn little bastards, and they bite.”

Camille coughed, trying to hide her laughter. She almost missed what Jarrod said next.

“Anyway, this one is strong enough to carry us both at once.”

“Both of us?” she swallowed, then walked around and studied the horse, noticing the saddle for the first time. It was old-fashioned, very wide… the sort that would have carried a warrior in full armor back in the day, or two people in very modern clothing. “Is that a… good idea, do you think?”

“Easiest way to get to where we’re going without getting lost.” He looked at her over the saddle, worried. “Of course, if you would prefer to ride on your own…”

“No. I— I really am out of practice.” She swallowed. “But isn’t that terribly difficult to do? Navigating with a passenger?”

“Don’t worry about that,” he said, as he led the stallion outdoors. She followed, fidgeting with her satchel. They walked across the courtyard, past the amused looks of students and Masters, until they reached the edge of the forest. There, he turned around and looked at her, his expression part excited, part hopeful.

Who was she kidding? She was enjoying this too much for words.

Camille transferred her satchel so that it sat across the chest, then gingerly clambered on. Patches gave a huff - the horse equivalent of _ Are you kidding me?, _ if she had to guess - but Jarrod patted him again, whispering something in his ear. 

“Ready?” he asked, moving the reins so that they sat on either side of her.

“Probably not, but—” 

But before she could say another word, Jarrod had leapt in the saddle, settling behind her. The stallion made a jerky movement, like it was about to throw them both off… then Jarrod got control of him again, pulling the reins and then nudging him into a trot.

Camille didn’t realize she’d been holding onto the saddle for dear life until her fingers started to hurt.

“Okay?” he asked, his voice tickling her ear.

“I… yes, I think so.” She loosened her grip, but then they were going over an uneven path, and she had precious little to hold onto. It was either the saddle or… Jarrod’s legs, she supposed.

Saddle it was.

“You’re tense,” he remarked, after a while.

“I’m afraid I’ll fall off.”

“Are we going too fast?”

No, actually. They were moving at a really pleasant pace.

“Like I said… out of practice.” 

“You can lean against me, if you like,” he said. “I know it sounds counter productive, but the tenser you are, the harder it is to get accustomed to riding.”

“Know from experience, do you?” she asked, but straightened her back a bit. She expected things to feel even more awkward, but Jarrod supported her weight like it was nothing. Like he could do this forever.

“You should have seen me when I was learning,” he chuckled. “Don’t worry, you won’t fall. I’ll never let that happen.”

Why, oh why, did he have to say all of the things she wanted to hear? And why was she not discouraging him?

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going now?” she asked, relaxing more and more against him. “Or is are you going to make me guess?”

“No need to guess. We’re going into the jungle.”

She looked around. “Well… ditto. Anywhere in particular?”

He was quiet for a while, guiding Patches around a fallen log. “There’s a clearing, about an hour’s ride from the academy. It’s not exactly off the beaten path, but it’s hard enough to get to for a casual walker. There’s some interesting plants there… some rare trees as well. I thought you might like to see it.”

“Rare plants, huh? Well, I am running a little low on my first aid supplies.” She wondered how much she could carry back. She had packed a crossword puzzle and a pen, and a few other things, but they didn’t take up much space. 

“You are always going into the jungle,” he said, after they rode in silence for a while. “I noticed that even on your days off, you prefer to be outside. Maybe you found this spot, too.”

“Unlikely,” she replied. “I always go on foot.” 

Admittedly, they would have gotten there faster if they morphed. But she could imagine why he wouldn’t want to do that right now.

Time went on, comfortably. Too comfortably. Camille grasped for possible things to talk about.

“So…” she said, finally, “Big day’s coming up.”

Jarrod groaned.

“I honestly thought Dominic forgot about that.”

“Not a fan of birthdays, then?”

Jarrod shifted, changing his grip on the reins. She nearly slid off, but his arm wrapped around her waist, straightening her up.

“Sorry,” he muttered, letting go as soon as she was stable again. Camille considered sliding off the opposite end, just to see what he did. “No, I don’t mind birthdays. I just don’t celebrate my own.”

“Then, do you want to cancel what the others are planning for you?” she asked. “I’m sure if you tell them so, they’ll respect your wishes.”

“Do you think so? They seem really keen to bring me back into the fold.”

“Because they like you and they want you to adjust to normal life again,” she said, ignoring how hypocritical she sounded at the moment. “Presumably, parties have something to do with that.”

Jarrod sighed. “I was never that sociable to begin with. I don’t think I’ll suddenly turn into the life of the company.”

“You can try,” she said. “Worst comes to worst, you can pretend you’re morphing and run away.”

*

A few more minutes lapsed into silence.

“Is there anything you’d like me to get for you?” she asked. “I heard the Rangers are going to get you your own towel. Something embroidered and bright pink, to stand out from the others.”

Jarrod snorted. “You’re already doing enough for me.”

“Acting like a decent being doesn’t count as a gift. Lily said so.” Lily had told her no such thing. “Just remember that when you don’t tell people what you want, you end up with things you don’t like.”

“Wise as always. There’s some low-hanging branches coming up. I’ll jump off, you lean forward.”

Or we could both just lean forward, she thought. But she could see why he would do it this way. Their means of travel aside, Jarrod was very careful not to touch her in a way that was too intimate or inappropriate. He wouldn’t… unless she allowed it.

Whether she wanted to allow it… and how much she wanted to allow it… 

Is a subject not to dwell on. 

But even her inner monologue sounded weak. Probably from the all-nighters she was too stubborn to split with anybody else.

The low-hanging branches cleared, but Jarrod did not get back on the saddle. Camille wracked her mind for something to break the silence.

“Well…” she said, finally. “I suppose I’ll have to restore you a chest of drawers then. Or a chair - that’ll make your room seem more hospitable.”

“I did wonder,” he said. “How did that come about?”

Camille shrugged. Then, remembering that he had his back to her, she said, “It’s not that interesting, to be honest. I needed somewhere to fold my clothes. Someone mentioned the broken furniture room. I fixed one for myself, then the other girls noticed, and the next thing I knew, I had a new past-time. No big deal.”

“You’re taking things we’d given up on and you’re making them functional again… and that’s not a big deal to you?”

“Well, just little things,” she said. “I can’t carry out any of the bigger things by myself.”

“Next time, just call me,” he said, not looking back. “I’ll carry whatever you need me to.”

Camille shook her head. Doesn’t mean anything. Doesn’t mean anything. “My, my. Offering to be my pack mule, are you? The other boys will not let you hear the end of it.”

Jarrod pulled the reins, bringing the horse to a stop and finally turning to look at her. “If by that you mean, they’ll be jealous to death, then yes - I will definitely never hear the end of it.”

Don’t… fall…

Then they entered a clearing, and Camille gasped out loud.

They were, quite literally, in paradise.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Power Rangers. This is a fan work, for fun only.

“How did you even find this place?”

Patches was off, grazing nearby. Camille had wandered across the entire clearing, studied every tree and plant she could find, while Jarrod had settled in the shade, watching her explore. Now, they sat together - she with her crossword, he with a book. He felt, without any exaggeration, that his life could not get any better.

“I tried running before I slept,” he said. “I thought that if I wore myself out, the Lion would not take over. Wishful thinking, but at least I discovered parts of the jungle that I hadn’t before.”

She nodded, as if that made sense. “It must have been a long run, though,” she said.

“I had a lot on my mind.” He was trying to focus on the book, but he kept stealing glances up at her. “Do you like it here? I mean… I didn’t waste your day off, did I?”

“Of course not. This place is gorgeous.” She was doodling on the edge of her crossword puzzle, vines and flowers like the ones filling her bag now. Fresh ingredients for medicinal salves, or inspiration for her other hobby, he did not know. He found it fascinating anyway. Every part of her was fascinating. “I’m just…”

“Yes?”

“I’m surprised. You usually don’t suggest we hang out by ourselves. This situation notwithstanding—” she gestured around “—you tend to keep your own company.”

Jarrod swallowed. This was going to get awkward soon, if he didn’t come up with an excuse.

Or he could just try to be honest…

Or, he could just walk into the river…

The point was, there was a lot of things he could do, not that much he was prepared to.

“You’ve been sacrificing your sleep and energy for my sake,” he said. “And I thought that maybe you’d enjoy seeing something beautiful for a change.”

She kept looking at him, in that way that always left him feeling like his soul was being examined. He had no idea what she saw, or if she liked it. That wasn’t always the case - he had seen first hand how expressive and passionate she had been. But when she willed it, Camille turned into the most inscrutable person he knew. 

“There’s a lot of beauty in the academy,” she said at length. “And nobody is forcing me to forgo sleep - I am there because I choose to be.”

“Well,” he said, trying to read his book again, “consider this to be an attempt on my part to reintegrate. Regular people spend time with their friends.”

“Is that what we are? Friends?”

Not if he could help it, but he wasn’t sure that was what she wanted to hear from the guy who chased her in the dark every night. “If that pleases you.”

Camille’s response was the scratch of pencil on paper. 

He stared at the words on the page, but they made no sense. Exhaustion - bone-deep and uncompromising - settled over him all at once. He had just enough time to lower himself on an elbow before his energy disappeared, and he nodded off.

*

Camille reached for her sai instinctively, bracing for an attack. But none came - Jarrod’s breath was deep and even, and she could see his eyes moving behind his lids. This was a normal sleep. The good kind, the one he was sorely missing out on.

It was horrible that they even made the distinction anymore.

She set aside her weapon and crawled over to turn him on his side. Sore muscles were one thing, but sleeping on his elbow was bound to mess him up. 

Associating with her was also going to mess him up, but that was, once again, a topic she did not want to pursue.

There were a lot of those today.

Camille sighed and looked across the clearing, marveling at the beauty of it again. How every change in the light brought out a different aspect of it. How the jungle itself seemed to hold its breath here. She could hear insects and birds, but this was a new kind of stillness. A peaceful one. 

So this is what it’s like, to live without war.

Camille wasn’t naive - she knew there were problems with this world. Problems that were helped by the rinshi, and problems that were because of the humans. This wasn’t some Haven that she’d ignored for ten thousand years as she waited for her master to come back and destroy it. 

But it was a better existence than what she had to look forward to before. 

It was, for one thing, a lot more hopeful.

She turned to Jarrod again…

…but his spot was empty.

Camille was on her feet before she knew what she was doing, taking a defensive stance. But the clearing was quiet. Even Patches - that treacherous horse - didn’t seem perturbed. 

She closed her eyes and cast her senses out. Surely he could not have gone too far. Surely she couldn’t have been that careless.

“You’re blind,” the Lion whispered in her ear, and the next thing she knew, she was flying through the air, thrown as if with great force. She curled on herself, rolling out of the fall and protecting herself… 

…only for Jarrod fly at her, pinning her down by the throat, claws extended. 

She snarled at him.

He snarled back.

Whether it was hesitation, grogginess from sleep, or something else distracting him, his attention weaned just long enough for her to grab hold of his other arm, capture his elbow, and buck him off. 

Her own spirit reared up, making her vision sharpen and her senses heighten. Jarrod didn’t wait for her to change, though. Throwing her off, he rolled to his feet and charged her again.

Her sai were too far away. She had no other weapons.

When he slashed at her, it was her forearms that met his claws - taking the brunt of the blow, so that she could move into his space and execute several strikes on his neck and stomach.

Jarrod reacted as if she’d just tickled him, grabbing her by the throat and slamming her into the ground. Her breath knocked out, Camille choked, seeing him raise his claws once more to kill her.

A thought wormed its way into her mind, as she saw the sunlight gleaming off his claws. 

_ Do it. I would. _

She didn’t want to die. But if she had to go like this, it would be a befitting ending. She’d stepped on enough people in her grab for power - at least she got to look her death in the face.

But the blow did not land. She stood beneath him, waiting to be finished off… and he just watched her. As if he had never seen her before.

“No…” he said, as if from very far away. “No…”

His hold on her throat loosened. He stepped away, as she scrambled backward herself.

“Come on,” he said. “Get up. Fight.”

Camille just stared at him, gasping for breath.

“You are a warrior, aren’t you? Fight me then!”

“No,” she croaked. “I don’t think so.”

“You dare run away?” He sounded furious enough, yet - here she was, a weakened prey - and he would not kill her.

“You want to know for sure who is holding the reins?” she asked. Each word hurt. “Let’s find out.”

His eyes gleamed with fury. His body trembled underneath the armor. 

“Come on,” she said. “You always did say I’d meet death like this.”

“I never said that,” he snarled. “Get up! Fight me!”

“No. You won.” Every instinct told her to run. Every last one - except for her heart. “What’s it going to be, Jarrod? Your code, or your bloodlust?”

He closed his fist, snarled… then turned on his heel and ran into the jungle.

Camille stood still for what felt like ages, unable to wrap her mind around what had just happened.

Then the shivers hit.

*

She lay in the grass as the shadows grew longer and longer. A part of her was demanding she get up and go. Another kept casting around, trying to find Jarrod. She had to call the others. She had to chase him down.

Her body cared not one bit.

Maybe this was like, to completely throw in the towel. She’d been trying to handle all this by herself, and now she was paying the price.

Camille thought she would be there forever, mulling over whatever self-destructive impulse had made her do what she had just done. But eventually, even she had to admit that this was too dramatic for this early in the day. Slowly, she pushed herself up - first on her hands and knees, then to her feet, before she hobbled over to Patches.

Patches, who clearly did not give a toss about a fight right next to him, but had significant issues with her riding him by herself. 

“Don’t,” she snarled, when it looked like he might rear up. “Don’t. Even. Think about it.”

The stallion glared. Then it turned around with a huff. 

_ Not worth my time, _ probably. 

As she threw a leg over the saddle, Camille sensed something familiar… or rather, she sensed something that had been there all along, but she hadn’t even noticed it. Nudging Patches into a trot, she headed for the path that Jarrod had taken them on the way over. There - among the low hanging branches - slumped a familiar form.

All too human, and too guilty to even meet her eyes.

Camille searched for the right words. It’s okay, didn’t seem to cut it. This wasn’t your fault was bound to make him switch off. Accidents happen implied that any of this was unexpected.

“Well,” she said, at length. “We got some valuable information out of this, didn’t we?”

Jarrod shuffled his feet. If she knew him as well as she thought, this was the part where the self-recrimination would start. Just leave me here, go on without me. She had no energy for that.

“Are you going to leave me to handle this devil horse by myself?” she asked. “I’m pretty sure he’s plotting my death as we speak.”

Patches huffed again. _ How dare you. _

It was all too easy, to focus on what a horse might say. Far easier than examining that was happening in front of them.

The pity play worked, though. Jarrod peeled himself from the tree and ambled over, caressing the horse. “He’ll never do that,” he said, sounding exhausted. “He knows I’ll never forgive him if he threw you.”

_ I would, _ Camille thought, as he took the reins and led them down the slow, winding road back to the academy. _ As I forgive you. _

He didn’t want to hear that, either.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Power Rangers. This is a fan work, for fun only.

“So, let me get this straight,” RJ said, from his perch on top of the Forbidden Chair. “You fell asleep; you changed; you attacked Camille, but refused to beat her when she was down. When she did not fight back, you ran off.” 

Jarrod cringed. 

“Come on. Is that what happened?”

“Yes.”

“And that’s bad… how exactly?”

He couldn’t take being still anymore. He got up and started to pace. Again.

He was doing too much pacing for someone who was already spending a lot of time on his feet. 

“It’s different. I really could have killed her this time. And instead of defending herself, she just let me hurt her. As if she has a damned death wish!”

RJ pondered this. Or pretended to, anyway. “Tell me something,” he said, finally. “When the Lion chases Camille, what does he want?”

“What do you mean?” His voice echoed across the loft. With his luck, even the patrons downstairs heard. “It wants to hunt her. It thinks she’s the enemy.”

“Maybe that’s what it thought at first, sure. But you’ve been on this merry chase for a while now.” RJ got up, wandered in the middle of the training floor. He didn’t seem too worried about bumping into Jarrod - it was as if he knew the younger man would scramble out of the way first. “He’s out. He’s hunting in his Domain…” RJ got a dreamy, faraway look in his eyes “…and then, out of nowhere, this uppity interloper comes in. He’s angry… but not so angry as to properly chase her out. Why is that?”

Jarrod couldn’t believe his ears.

Was this really how he wanted to discuss the near death of one of his students?

“I don’t know,” he admitted, finally. “I… if I had to guess, the Lion respects her.”

“Yes,” RJ turned quickly, walked over to him. “Yes, he does respect her. Just like you do. But not in the same way as myself or Lily does, I’d wager.”

As if that aspect of his personal life was a secret to anybody else. “I don’t understand.”

“The Lion hunts,” RJ said. “But the Lion hunts with integrity. He doesn’t go for someone who is obviously weak. He’ll enjoy a bit of sport but what he really wants is not to kill.”

Now he was completely lost.

And then he wasn’t.

“Ridiculous,” he said. 

“Is it?” RJ grinned - the grin of a man who was one hundred million percent sure of what he was doing. “You had plenty of opportunities to hurt her. To hurt others, as well. Yet, in two weeks of these nightmares, you have managed to get more beaten up than anybody else so far.”

“That’s because I’m tired. And… and I am still asleep.”

“And you’re telling me your spirit wouldn’t find a way to take control? Really?”

Jarrod shook his head. “Even if that’s the case, I can’t keep relying on Camille to keep me in line. She—”

“She took a gamble. Like Casey did, actually. And it paid off for her as it did for him.”

“You can’t possibly keep throwing yourselves at me, telling me to kill you, and hope for the best! I don’t control this. I…”

His voice broke and he collapsed into a chair again. RJ sighed and patted his back. 

_ Cubs. _ He sincerely hoped Casey would wait a few years before falling in love - he wasn’t cut out for this type of advice-giving.

*

Camille, for her part, was facing her own interrogation. This time, over restaurant napkins.

“So…” Theo said, already regretting what a can of worms he was about to open. “I suppose we should address the elephant in the room?”

“The fact that my way of folding is superior to yours?” Camille asked, holding up a perfect paper swan in her hands. “Yes, I believe we should.”

“RJ doesn’t pay us to do origami, and that is not what I was talking about.”

“I’m surprised. Usually, it’s your girlfriend who brings up the awkward questions.”

True. But Theo had drawn the short straw this time, and Lily would not let him get out of it. Apparently he had to develop his emotional intelligence, whatever that meant. 

“Listen, I don’t want to come off as a jerk…” he said.

“Ironically, how most jerks start their statements.”

“But… you care about Jarrod, yes?”

Camille folded another napkin, this time into a penguin. Her silence was glacial. 

“Well… you do. Sorry to break it to you, but the whole ‘cool Queen of the Chameleons’ ship sailed a long time ago.”

“I’m surprised you’re even asking me. You seem to have it all figured out.”

“Well, I’m sure it hasn’t escaped your attention,” Theo said, glancing around to make sure they were truly alone, “that Jarrod likes you too. I mean… he’s not exactly subtle about it.”

Some guys cracked heads. Jarrod just… brooded. He brooded all the time, sure, but he ramped up the intensity around Camille. Honestly, it would have been funny if Theo didn’t know exactly how painful that was.

“Suppose I have noticed,” Camille said. “What is your point?”

“Have you considered, by any chance, putting him out of his misery? Not in the literal sense, just… ask him out on a date?” He paused, then added, “Or tell him directly that it’s never going to happen, whichever way you feel?”

Camille folded and folded and folded, her movements growing more brisk with every passing minute. “Has it occurred to you,” she asked, voice shaking, “that perhaps I don’t have a clue what to do, either?”

She’d kept sending monsters to kill him, coming up with more and more elaborate ways to terrorize the residents of Ocean Bluff, so… no. Theo really did have a hard time imagining Camille as not having a clue about something.

They worked in silence for a while. Then she spoke up again. “In the academy, you had friends, didn’t you? Besides Lily, I mean.”

“Er… sure.” Followers was a better word for it, but he wasn’t about to argue on semantics. “Lots of them. Why?”

“Casey, too. Lily, I’m sure was extremely popular. You had lives that weren’t about fighting and defending the world.”

“Well…” Theo pondered this. Things had gotten a little focused on saving the world a year ago, but now he had time to read a book for fun, so… “Sure. But what’s that got to do with--?”

“Lots.” Camille set her load in the basket - penguins, tigers, dragons, even the odd unicorn - and started another. “You can reasonably say that you have happy lives. You have choices about the people you let in. You get to decide who you hang out with… and who you love.” She finally met his eyes. “Jarrod didn’t have that.”

Theo started to say that wasn’t true - but he couldn’t. Even before Dai Shi, Jarrod had been… isolated. Touchy, somehow, and unable to grasp the concept of friendly banter. As if he’d learned about human interaction from afar, but never quite absorbed the finer detail.

Dom had said as much, too. But then, Theo had a hard time telling when Dom was serious. 

“You’re saying… what are you saying?”

Maybe Lily was right about the whole emotional intelligence thing.

Camille braced her hands against the table, as if what she was about to say hurt. “Jarrod was alone before Dai Shi came. Then, the only person he had to talk to was me. Are you really surprised he started getting protective?”

“Well… not when you put it like that.” Theo frowned. “But like— there’s more to it than that, right? I mean, he’s been in the real world for nearly a year now and he still prefers your company to anybody else’s.”

“And I suppose these outbursts he’s been having are a sign of recovery?”

Okay. He was completely lost. He didn’t know what to say, and Lily could have the emotional heart-to-hearts from now on. 

“Camille, just because he’s isolated doesn’t mean his feelings for you are invalid,” Theo said, in a last-ditch attempt to salvage the situation. “Look, I know I’m Mr Popular and maybe I don’t know your life—” oh, he wished “—but I do know it sucks, when someone you care for tries to ignore you for your own good.”

“You don’t think, then, that I should keep my distance?” Her eyes flashed. “You’re not worried I’ll hurt him even more? My kind held him captive - you think he can just ignore that and love me?”

He was worried about a lot of things - chief among them was Jarrod walking in on this conversation - but now that he’d started this ball rolling, he had to see it through.

“I didn’t know what would happen with Lily and me when I put my feelings out there, either,” he said. “And yeah, breaking someone’s heart is a real possibility. But Jarrod gets to have a say about who breaks his heart. If you feel the same way…” Theo shrugged. “Right now, you are hurting each other because of what you think the other ought to feel. It seems wasteful to me.”

Camille seemed to fade into her background. Or, nearly.

“So what do I do?” she asked.

“I dunno. Maybe start by figuring out what you do want?” 

*

_ Easier said than done, _ Camille thought a few days later. She was sat in Pizza Karma, nursing her one and only beer, as she watched Jarrod’s birthday bash - such as it was — unfold.

To call it a wild party was a stretch. In truth, it was a lot of friends of the rangers, and friends of friends, and friends of friends of friends, who had heard there was free pizza and that the DJ took music requests. Master Swoop looked like he already regretted taking that job.

And the person whose honor all this was for? Leaning against the wall farthest from her, as if his body was the only thing that kept Pizza Karma from collapsing.

Camille swirled her drink, and refused yet another offer to dance. These last few days, Jarrod had managed to get Dom, Casey and Theo to cover the inner parameter, while Lily and Fran found excuses to keep her in town after dark. Ostensibly, there were a lot of quad bike racers in the woods after nightfall and they didn’t want her to get squished, or some such nonsense.

So why did she let them get away with it?

She had, actually, considered talking to Jarrod about their situation. (She couldn’t bring herself to say her feelings, even in her head.) But it was too late. Whatever miserable feelings he’d had after attacking her that day in the jungle hadn’t been alleviated after he spoke to RJ. He ignored her at work, he ignored her at school, and when the time came for her to track him, she was faced with an apologetic Dom telling her that her presence was required elsewhere.

_ Ouch. _

Across the room, Lily said something to Jarrod; trying to include him in a conversation with the rest of her friends. He replied, smiling his self-depreciating grin, and a girl standing by his side nearly busted a seam laughing.

The worst part, she thought as she watched the scene unfold, was that this was supposed to be healing. Jarrod becoming re-integrated, getting a second chance at life… she wanted those things for him. Not for him to be stuck in the past with… with…

Well, a chameleon. 

Jarrod and the New Girl were talking more animatedly now, forming a group within the group. How she longed to merge with the walls and go there. She wanted to know whatever it was that New Girl said that held his attention so well. It would have been nice - so nice - if she had normal conversations with him, too. Not just their failed world domination or how to handle the difficult customer on table five.

_ We are friends, right? _ She thought. _ We could go our separate ways and still be in each other’s lives. Has everything I did been for nothing? _

Ten thousand years and she still wanted to be the chosen one. Pathetic.

Jarrod looked up, caught her eyes. As if he’d heard her thoughts. Camille raised her glass in a mock salute, then busied herself with draining it. 

Theo went by, opened his mouth to say something… then he got a good look on his face and went, “Never mind,” heading in the opposite direction. 

Good. She was not feeling sociable. Not one bit.

“You know,” RJ said from behind her, “if your goal is to move on, you’re making it extremely hard on yourself.”

Camille craned her neck. Deciding this was not an optimal way to talk, she turned around. “And I suppose you are an expert. In moving on, I mean.”

“How many of those have you had?” he asked, nodding at her beer.

She glanced over her shoulder. New Girl was laughing at something Jarrod had said. She reached out and touched his arm. “Not nearly enough.”

RJ pried the cup from her hand. “Time to switch you to water, then.” 

“I thought humans turned to intoxication in times of… strong emotion.”

“Sure we do. Then we regret it horribly,” he said as he poured. “And it never helped anybody, except for helping them blurt out feelings in awkward times.”

“Hmm. I guess some moderation can’t hurt, then.”

RJ held out her glass, but didn’t let go as soon as she took it. “I know it’s been hard for you, Camille. We really appreciate all the work you’ve done.”

“I… appreciate that you appreciate that.”

“But you really can’t keep this up.”

She pulled the glass from his hand, spilling more water than she intended. She pulled up her sleeve and started wiping at the counter. “Sorry.”

“Is that about the spillage or for taking on too much?”

“Are you going to lecture me about how I handle my life? Because Theo did plenty of that already.”

The Wolf Master shook his head. “I can believe that you don’t want to hurt Jarrod. But—”

“…there’s that dreaded word again…”

“—if the goal is to get him to move on, you’re not helping the situation.”

She glared. “You’re saying this is my fault?”

“No.”

“It sounds like you are.”

RJ took her by the shoulder gently and turned her to face the crowd. Jarrod had bent his head toward New Girl - to hear better, because the music was too loud.

_ Yeah, keep telling yourself that. _

“Tell me something - does this bother you? Yes, or no?”

“This is stupid,” Camille said.

“Does it bother you?”

She sighed. “It does.” Her shoulders sagged. “But so what? He’s too busy feeling sorry for himself to talk to me.”

“Yes. Who does that?”

Camille turned and glared. “So it’s my fault after all?”

A chuckle, then the older man stepped back, holding his hands up in defeat. “All I’m saying is, one of you has to be the brave one.”

_ The brave one, huh? _ she thought as the minutes ticked by. She used to think of herself as such a person. Now she was just… just…

Just a human.

Camille glanced back. New Girl was gone and Jarrod was back to propping the wall again. But he wouldn’t be alone for long. Tonight or… otherwise.

_ I thought you might like to see something beautiful, _ he’d said to her. And while he was at it, he’d taken her on a romantic spot and treated her like a princess because… because… because he was Jarrod and he didn’t know such things as overkill existed.

And she was somehow supposed to be the brave one?

From the corner of her eye, she spotted New Girl talking to RJ as he refilled two cups for her. Two. Whatever window of opportunity she had, it was closing fast.

Camille started walking.

Jarrod saw her immediately, and straightened up. Was he excited to see her, or was he preparing to run away?

Her steps faltered. 

Slowed.

“Camille,” he said, as she approached. “Are you… having fun?”

_ Sorry, RJ, _ she thought. _ I’m a coward after all. _ “I am. But I’m… going back to the academy now. I just wanted to say happy birthday again.”

Jarrod glanced at the clock. Was it too early? She had heard Lily say eleven o’clock was a good time to bow out if the crowd became too much.

“It’s late,” he said. “You shouldn’t walk out there alone.”

That made her smile. “I do have some skill,” she said. Then, on impulse, she opened her arms out. “Come on. Don’t make me be awkward now.”

He chuckled, then stepped closer, wrapping her into a tight embrace. She let her head rest against his shoulder, just for a little bit… just this once. Why did the things that she want hurt so much? “Happy birthday,” she whispered. “I hope you enjoy this one.”

She pulled away, but Jarrod caught her hands, holding her in place.

“Give me five minutes to say goodbye,” he said. “I’ll come with you.”

“I told you, I’ll be fine,” she said, pushing back against the mounting panic. “You should worry about the fool who decides to pick a fight with me.”

“I’ll tell you a secret--” he leaned in, brushing his lips to her ear “—I wanted to get out of here an hour ago and couldn’t find a way.”

Camille swallowed. “Well… I…”

“Please? I’m calling birthday privileges.”

If that wasn’t a thing, she was not about to question him. “Well… I suppose I can’t argue with that.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Power Rangers. This is a fan work, for fun only.

She stuck her hands in her pockets as soon as they stepped outside, and he instantly regretted letting go when he went to say goodbye. But what was the other option? To clutch at her like a drowning man in a storm?

He’d taken the time to say goodbye to Lily’s friend, too, although the hairs on his neck stood on end as he did that. Camille was busying herself with her shoelaces when he glanced at her, but there was a new tension to her body that made him wonder.

“I’ll drop off the book for you,” Clara was saying. “Should I bring it here or shall I just give it to Lily?”

“Drop it off. And thanks,” Jarrod said, smiling. 

“Girlfriend?” she asked, raising her eyebrows in Camille’s direction.

He balked. “Er… no, actually.” He paused. “W…why?”

“She bore a hole in the back of your head tonight. Not really—” she laughed, when Jarrod reached back to feel in his hair “—but seriously, I’ve never someone look so miserable. Try not to break her heart, okay?”

Lily, he decided, had some very weird friends.

Yet, as he and Camille walked through the streets of Ocean Bluff, he kept turning the words in his head, wondering if there was some grain of truth in them.

_ Oh, sure. RJ, Casey, Theo, Lily, even Dom tell you to just ask her out, and you give more credence to a stranger’s word than theirs? _

Well… they were a little too close to the situation.

“How have you been these last few nights?” Camille asked, as they neared the edge of the jungle. “Any incidents?”

“No fights,” he said. “The others tracked me, but they never had to intervene. Looks like the Spirit of the Lion doesn’t care much about having company, so long as they keep their distance.”

Camille pursed her lips. “Well… that’s good to hear, isn’t it?”

“I should hope so.” He wanted to run his hand down her back, to ease the tension there. Would she allow it?

“Does RJ have any more ideas?” she asked. “About what he thinks might be happening?”

_ He thinks I’m a socially stunted moron who wants to have sex with you. Unfortunately I have no way of expressing that in an appropriate way, so my spirit takes over and keeps challenging you to fights instead. _

Yeah, he wasn’t saying that. “He’s got a few working theories. They mostly boil down to my not liking myself very much.”

“Right…” She was quiet as they left the lights of the city and entered the shades. “I suppose that makes some sense...”

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or—” He tripped over something and nearly face-planted. Camille’s hands were there, steadying him in the last moment.

“Jarrod, what happened?” Her voice was high with panic, and he realized she must have thought he’d transformed. 

“I’m fine, I’m here.” He steadied his feet and studied the ground, best as he could. “Are there… groves here?”

“Must be the path they use for quad racing,” Camille muttered. “Here, take my hand. I can see better in the dark.”

His senses were sharpening, too, in response to the changes, but he wasn’t about to turn down such an offer. “So… were you? Joking I mean,” he asked, loath to leave the conversation where it was.

“I find some of RJ’s teachings to be deeply confounding,” she said. “But… this is your life. What do you think?”

That really wasn’t what he was hoping to hear.

“I… I think he may be right,” he said. “And I hate myself for not being able to appreciate what they are doing for me.”

They walked on in silence, with Camille just holding his hand tighter as they went.

Perhaps it was just this - her willingness to listen, and the abject darkness around them - that finally got the words out of his mouth. 

“RJ and the others are pulling out all the stops to make me feel included,” he said. “And what do I do? Stand in the corner and run off at the first opportunity.”

“In all fairness,” Camille said. “You did point out that parties were not your thing.”

“It’s not just that. Casey lets me teach his class. Lily and Theo are both asking me for advice on technique, even when they have earned their Master Stripes and I have not. Dom is going out of his way to treat me like a friend.” You are destroying yourself to help me, he thought, but couldn’t bring himself to voice it. “They insist that being possessed by Dai Shi wasn’t my fault, and that they forgive me. But I can’t accept it.”

Camille squeezed his hand again. Taking that as a encouragement, he went on.

“RJ even told me about Casey’s own problems when he first became a ranger. Trying to make me feel better, I guess. But all it made me do is think how my own weakness made this happen.”

“What problems are you talking about?”

Of course, she wouldn’t know about this. She - as did Jarrod himself - had only seen the tail end of it.

“Casey kept shunning the leadership role, apparently,” Jarrod said. “He was blaming himself for Dai Shi being set loose - apparently, if he hadn’t stood up to me that day, Master Mao would have never cast me out and this whole mess would not have happened.”

“You disagree with that assessment,” she noted.

Jarrod hated to think about this. But it felt easier to let the night hear his insecurities. The night, and Camille.

“Casey did not turn me into an asshole. Master Mao did not kick me out because he knocked me off my feet - he kicked me out because I was a selfish bully. The fact of the matter is, none of this would have happened if I had the true heart of a lion.”

“Perhaps. Or, you would have kept a harem, and napped for sixteen hours a day.”

“Camille…”

“I’m just saying, male lions aren’t exactly known for being high energy.”

“You’re being deliberately ridiculous.”

“Perhaps,” she said. Then, after a few minutes, she added, “Suppose you kept your lesser feelings and urges a secret, and you became a guardian in Casey’s place. What then?”

“I would have… guarded the Forbidden Room.”

“You would have been spending time with Dai Shi, for weeks and months on end. Dai Shi, who, as we have already established, knew exactly which buttons to push for people to do as he wished.” She planted her feet and turned. Even in the dark, he could see her eyes flashing. “What do you think would have happened? How long do you think you would have lasted?”

His old self? Scared and angry and desperate for power and respect? “Not long.” His voice was but a croak as he said it.

“Not long at all,” Camille agreed. “Then Dai Shi would have only had two rangers to deal with, and no giant megazords to stop him from laying the city to waste.”

Jarrod felt lightheaded. “That doesn’t excuse what I did,” he said.

“No, you still were the one to let Dai Shi go.” She started walking again, making him move along. “But I’m not sure whether that was all your doing anymore.”

“What do you mean?” Did the ground just start shaking? Or was he that weak that he couldn’t notice?

“The Order of the Claw recruit their students,” Camille said. “Sometimes they find people with extraordinary powers in happy families, sometimes they are born from other students, but most of the time, the Master come across the most potential in social service homes and orphanages.” She glanced back at him for emphasis. “Meanwhile, they select guardians based on fighting prowess and spirit mastery. Put those things together, and I’m surprised they lasted ten thousand years.”

He swallowed. For a moment, he thought the Lion was about to come out… but the silence went on, uninterrupted.

“You’re saying all of this was bound to happen?” He managed.

“I’m saying there was a significant flaw in the Pai Zhua plan. Lily’s on top of it, though,” Camille said. “She’s talking about introducing mandatory therapy for everyone, starting with the old masters.” She paused. “That was a joke. You can laugh now.”

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m still finding it hard to process all of this.”

“If it helps, consider how it helped Casey. If he hadn’t intervened the day of the test, he probably would have been sequestered with the rest of the Pai Zhua students. He would have taken a lot longer to develop his powers… if he developed them at all. And for all the stuff they say about guilt being a terrible motivator, he was the only one who went into the compound and made an appeal to your better nature.”

The ground was definitely shaking. It could not be him. 

He slowed down, until he stopped completely. Camille took a few more steps before she realized he wasn’t moving. “Jarrod?”

“You’re forgetting one thing,” he said, pulling her back until they stood face to face again. “You would have been there, too. And Casey would have never attempted to rescue me if he hadn’t seen us together, either.”

Camille’s breath caught. He wished they were at the academy already - at least then, he could see her face.

“I had my own problems to deal with,” she said finally. “And I didn’t know who was whom until you spelled it out for me.” She tried to pull her hand away, but he held tight. “You’re… you’re giving me too much credit.”

“No,” he said. “I didn’t give you enough.”

She started to respond, but the ground started shaking again, followed by the roar of a motor. They turned simultaneously, just in time for a pair of headlights to come around the bend and blind them.

Camille gasped and tried to jump back, just as Jarrod attempted to do the same. They stumbled, canceling each other out. The quad bikes racing toward them, Jarrod ran into Camille, throwing both of them off the road and into the ditch on the side. They rolled to the bottom, hitting every broken branch and exposed root, while the racers thundered past, screaming obscenities.

Then, as quickly as it had all happened, it was over. The air was filled with the sounds of the jungle - insects, animals, the wind - while Jarrod and Camille lay tangled on the ground.

“Camille?” he gasped. “Camille, are you alright?”

He could feel her breath, but that was about it.

“Are you hurt?” he ran his palms over her head, her arms, her back, trying to feel for blood or broken bones. “Camille, say something.”

“Why?” she choked out, face buried into his neck.

“Why?” 

She pushed herself up on her elbows, and he saw tears rolling down her face. He reached out, cupping her cheeks… as if that was going to help.

“Why do I keep wanting things I can’t have?” she whispered, and he saw, for the first time just how exhausted she looked. 

Jarrod swallowed. Fumbling, he found her right hand, and placed it on his heart.

“You can have this,” he said. “And anything else I can give.”

Camille looked like she wanted to say something, when her eyes widened. Jarrod looked down, and saw that his hand had turned into a claw again.

“No,” he said. “Run.”

She didn’t. Instead, she bowed her head and wrapped her arms around him, tighter still, as his body shuddered and the Lion emerged.

*

Camille forced herself to breathe, while the change took Jarrod. She wanted to flee so badly…

She also wanted to hold him forever.

“Run,” he grated, but it wasn’t his voice.

“No.”

“I will tear you apart, enemy. Run!”

“I am not your enemy.” Forcing herself to move, she looked up into the monster’s face. “Dai Shi is gone. It is peacetime.”

The Lion Growled. His arm - the one that didn’t have her own hand trapped - struck out, grabbing her jaw.

“I remember you,” he breathed. “The Lackey. The one who bowed and flattered and failed.”

“Yes.”

“You claim to love us. You claim you wish us no harm.”

“Yes.”

“But that is not who you are.”

The claws were digging in… but not breaking her skin. His grip was powerful but he did not stop her from speaking. Camille let go of her fear - she’d faced death enough times - and looked at him in the eys. “It is,” she said. “I know you don’t believe it, but it’s the truth.”

A growl. The claws dug in just a bit harder.

“I’m here,” she said. “I’m his, for as long as he wants me. If you don’t like that, then do something about it now, because I’m not going anywhere.”

The beast’s eyes flashed. Had she pushed him too far? Called out his bluff, only to be destroyed?

Then the fury died. The claws retracted, the armor disappeared. She was blinded by a bright flash of light, and when she could see again, there was just her and Jarrod left.

“Camille?” he whispered. His hand caressed her face, touch feather-light. “Did that… did that just…”

“Happen? Yes.” And, feeling inspired, she crushed her mouth against his.

He froze, but only for a second. Then he responded to her kiss, pulling her closer.

Around them, the night resumed its quiet song.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I do an epilogue or not.... decisions, decisions.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Power Rangers. This is a fan work, just for fun.

Later that night, he paced his room.

He’d carried Camille the rest of the way to the academy - not because he particularly had to, but because he had this irrational fear she would disappear in the dark like a dream. They’d kissed in the shadow of the main gate, then made their way indoors, maintaining the minimum respectable distance, for the sake of anybody who might come across them. He’d stolen another kiss at the entrance to the women’s dorms, and then made an excuse to go to his room.

“Got to make a call,” he said. “The others… will want to know we got back safe.”

“Don’t wait too long,” she’d told him, a wicked twinkle in her eye. “These walls are not as paper-thin as you guys like to think they are.”

He’d grinned like some giddy teenager, then backed into the corridor even though every part of him demanded he follow her into her room.

Jarrod hadn’t lied - he’d gone back into his room and made the call to Casey, glossing over their near-accident and tumble into the ditch. “Don’t worry about walking the parameter, either,” he’d said.

“What?” Casey shouted, half because of the noise in the background, half because he probably thought he’d misheard. “But what about—”

“RJ’s theory worked,” he said. “There won’t be any more incidents. Certainly not tonight.”

“Hold on,” Casey said, then, from further away, “RJ! JARROD SAYS YOU WERE RIGHT. WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?”

“Oh, Spirits,” RJ called out on the other end of the line. “I hope they used protection.”

“Erm… RJ says—”

“I heard,” Jarrod said, blushing to the roots of his hair. “It’s not what he thinks. Anyway… enjoy yourselves.”

“Sure. Um… RJ says you too. Whatever that means…”

“Don’t ask him.” He would absolutely ask him. Jarrod hung up, and then immediately collapsed into a dead panic. 

He’d paced. He’d showered. He’d paced again, going as far as taking his shirt off because it was so sweltering in his room. That, or he was just too overwrought. 

In the back of his mind, he knew Camille waited. It was an awareness so deep, he didn’t even question it anymore. She’d be waiting, and he… and he…

All the thoughts and possible humiliations ran through his head like some nightmarish roller coaster. He reached out to his spirit, looking for guidance, and got nothing. Nada. Zilch. 

What was he going to do?

Then he sensed her. 

Not in the corridor, though. He would have been able to sense her approach. No, his awareness of Camille came from outside.

Gingerly, as if he expected a monster to come out and bite his head off, Jarrod approached the window. 

She stood in the courtyard below, hair loose, black shift gently swaying around her ankles. She caught his eye, grinned, and crooked a finger at him.

Was she… taunting him?

Her grin widened and she took a step back, then another, going further away from the building and into the forest.

Before Jarrod could think twice, he was outside, running. She had gone into the bush by then, but he could still sense her, not too far away. Not dwelling on what this all meant, he gave chase.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, the Lion growled contentedly. Finally, they were doing something worthy of their time.

Except the Lion didn’t take over. It was Jarrod who ran through the pathways, who followed Camille deeper and deeper into the jungle. Every now and again, whenever he thought he lost her, she appeared in the corner of his eyes - not saying a word, not making a sign, just grinning that infuriating, beautiful grin.

Wait until he caught her. He would…

…he would…

He never got to figure out what he would do. She never gave him a chance to think about it. He chased and he chased, but never grew tired. It was like her presence energized him.

Then she stopped. One moment he was running at her at full speed - the next, her arm shot out, string-lining him across the chest. He landed on his side, then swept her legs underneath her, more out of instinct than anything else. But before he could get up, she was tackling him, rolling them both across the clearing.

The clearing…

Jarrod tried to catch his breath, but Camille had him pinned down before he could so much as gasp.

Not in any real way. Just enough to focus him.

Grabbing her around the waist, he threw her off, then rolled on top, pinning her arms above her head. But instead of looking angry, the damned woman just kept grinning.

He kissed her, hard.

Her mouth opened and she giggled, then deepened the kiss. Her legs wrapped around his hips, bringing him closer. He was sweaty, he was tired, he could barely catch his breath, and this was the best moment of his life.

He trailed a series of open mouth kisses down her jaw and up her neck, reveling in this victory. She chuckled as he found a ticklish spot, but her laughter turned into a moan as he sucked and bit at it lightly.

That moan… he could spend a lifetime just coming up with new ways to get her to make that sound.

She arched his back under him and, responding to some instinct, his hips jerked. Then it was like the spell dissipated and he was painfully aware of what he was doing.

What was he doing, actually?

Then Camille kissed his neck, his cheek, and then their mouths found each other again, and all he could think about was how glad he was this was her. She’d waited, and then she’d guessed what was keeping him, and she’d made him chase her until he’d left his self-consciousness behind.

Well… most of it.

Her skirt had hiked up, so when he ran his hand up her knee, all he could feel was soft skin and promise. 

_ I have to come clean. _

_She knows._

_I have to come clean anyways. _

“Camille…” he whispered, breaking their kiss. He looked for some suave way of making his point, then gave up. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

Her hand came up and caressed his face, trailed into his hair. “I do,” she said.

Without further warning, she slid her legs under his, hooking his ankles and using the momentum to roll them both over. He stared up as she straddled him, hair cascading over her shoulders. 

“How much can you take?” she asked, as lacing the fingers of her hand with his.

“Whatever you want,” he said. He meant it, too. “I trust you.”

She bent over to kiss him, then slid further down his body. “I’ll remember that,” she said.

And that was pretty much the last coherent thought either of them had for the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi.
> 
> I don't live in the USA. I don't have much of a platform. I'm not able to attend any marches.
> 
> But I want to use whatever platform I have to spread information and help. I have listed a few links and organisations here and at some of my other fics. If my work gives you pleasure, please donate. Sign petitions. Call your elected representatives, if you are in the USA. Keep yourselves informed and alert if you aren't.
> 
> Please. Thank you.
> 
> Organizations, Petitions & Go Fund Me:  
(these links come from Bailey Sarians latest video, she had great links so I'll use the same, go check out her video right here: https://youtu.be/iig8BEP-sOw )  
Color Of Change - https://colorofchange.org/  
Movement For Black Lives - https://m4bl.org/  
NAACP - https://www.naacpldf.org/  
Undocublack -https://undocublack.org/  
Petition for George Floyd - https://www.change.org/p/mayor-jacob-frey-justice-for-george-floyd?utm_source=brand_us&utm_medium=media  
Minnesota Freedom Fun - https://minnesotafreedomfund.org/  
Reclaim The Block - https://secure.everyaction.com/zae4prEeKESHBy0MKXTIcQ2  
Go Fund Me For George Floyd Family - https://www.gofundme.com/f/georgefloyd


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